A Drop in the Bucket
by theweaknessinme
Summary: When life continually beats them down, Jack and Erica take a much needed and unexpected opportunity to decompress. Takes place at the end of Unholy Alliance.


As soon as he saw her eye open and corresponding eyebrow rise, he knew he should run.

It was 2 am and they were putting the finishing touches on the cleanup of Jack's office.

Four hours earlier Erica had texted him from her office that the FBI operation had gone as planned. He replied "Want 2 hear about it. Come 2 church. Am cleaning up some vandalism."

Jack was dreading returning Tyler's phone to Erica. Tyler had made the youthful mistake of recording a video of the destruction he and his friends had unleashed in the church. Jack was just glad he'd been the one to find the phone and relieved Father Travis hadn't called the police. What a mess this could have been. He had even considered keeping the phone to save Erica additional stress, but he knew in his heart that she'd want to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

Erica was glad to see Jack's reply. She responded that she would be on her way soon. Vandalism? She was curious. It came with the job.

She and Jack needed to talk more about their alliance with Eli Cohen. Jack was not comfortable with it at all. He had no respect for Cohen and obviously distrusted him. It could have something to do with the fact Cohen had held Jack as a human shield with a gun to his head, she thought wryly. When she and Jack discussed things face to face, invariably they would come to some compromised conclusion that sat well with both of them. She hoped they could talk it out.

Poor Jack. He was such a sweet gentle soul. With a will of iron, she grimaced, as she thought how he could dig his heels in if he thought something was out of line. He struggled daily with how they should fight the Visitors. He must have had similar internal conflicts as an army chaplain and yet he had returned for a second tour in Iraq. He must have felt needed there. And he must be a bear for punishment, she thought, because not only was he currently ministering to a congregation in one of the poorest parishes in the state, but he had placed himself front and center in the biggest fight of his life - the fight for humanity. She wished Hobbes would ease up on him. It seemed he would purposely bait Jack to see his reaction. Maybe he was waiting to see him lose his "decency". Maybe he was jealous that Jack could be a fighter and still retain his strong moral code. Jack was far too important to lose and they'd come too close to that once already. Although he didn't know it, when she and Jack were on the same page her frequent nightmares were less… frequent. She hoped the coalition with Cohen would make their little group feel less of an ineffective drop in the bucket and they could finally gain some traction against Anna.

Erica also wanted to tell Jack the details of the FBI raid - that the Malik investigation would be put to rest and the Peace Ambassador murderers were behind bars. Everything had gone as planned. He had promised her tea in exchange for the details. She smiled to herself. Tea. It was the small normal-life things she enjoyed with Jack. He was a phenomenon in her life. A magnet that helped keep her grounded. It was such a relief to have a relationship that was uncomplicated. He was so transparent and had no hidden agendas. She worried sometimes that he was too transparent when he lied to protect them and their cause. But perhaps his averted eyes, the fidgetiness, the sheen of sweat on his forehead were only noticeable to her because she'd come to know him so well. Unfortunately Jack had not fooled her partner Chris when they had gone to the church the other day to question him, so Jack remained high on the FBI radar.

Erica shook her head as she slowed down for a stop light. No wonder Jack had looked so uncomfortable when she and Chris had entered the church. Jack had just found the box containing the severed Visitor head and the DVD from Eli Cohen. She'd been puzzled by his odd behavior during their surprise interview. She'd never seen him quite so jittery and distracted. She was on the verge of using her in-your-face method of disarming her suspects when she thought better of it. She'd done that twice to Jack already and he didn't deserve it, although it would have easily explained away any display of nervousness. Today, instead of her usual full frontal attack, Erica questioned Jack by standing close and trying keep his attention focused on her instead of straying off. She needed to quell Chris's curiosity.

Erica really wasn't sure what Chris had picked up in that interview. Had she and Jack hidden their relationship from Chris? She hoped her face hadn't registered the shock she felt when Chris revealed knowledge of Jack's kills in Iraq. She shook her head again, wondering what had – or hadn't – possessed her not to do her own background check on Jack so she would know that sort of information. She made a mental note to do just that. It was a huge omission on her part and would raise eyebrows should her files be scrutinized. And it would undoubtedly be a good read. A smile spread across her face.

Then she sighed. They were all becoming such good liars. Even the priest.

Erica could hear the scrubbing of the brush before she stepped into Jack's office just after 11 pm. At first she thought Chad Decker was there, then realized it was the 11 pm news broadcast on TV.

Instead of the usual comforting scent of burning candles, leather and old books, Jack's office smelled of crumbled cement, dust and cleaners. Jack was up a ladder scrubbing somewhat unsuccessfully at a large red V spray painted on the wall. She glanced around at the mess as he climbed down and turned up the volume on the TV. Chad's commentary had just begun and he was explaining that Catholic Church officials were now condemning all anti-V rhetoric from clergy worldwide and that intolerance against the Vs would be dealt with swiftly and severely. Jack and Erica looked at each other.

"Are you going to be okay?" Erica asked.

"Probably not. Because I'm not going to stop speaking out." If he'd never felt like a hero before, the look on her face should convince him that he was her hero. She reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away almost immediately. He needed to get this over with. He reached in his desk drawer and handed her Tyler's phone.

As Jack had predicted, Erica was crushed to know that Tyler had been a part of the whirlwind that had desecrated his church. Erica's plea for help with Tyler broke his heart. Of the many faces of Erica Evans, this was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen. He felt helpless. So he just sat quietly with one hand holding hers and the other resting on her shoulder as she bowed her head. Her hot tears spilled over the backs of both their hands.

After a quiet minute, he stroked the silken hair on the back of her lowered head, then on a whim, gently combed his fingers through it intending to give comfort, but instead enjoying the softness and breathing in its scent. He spoke her name quietly.

"Sorry. I'm sorry Jack." Her head was still bowed, her voice muffled and he could feel her smooth cheek move against the back of his hand as she spoke. "It's unfair of me to ask you for help."

"No, don't apologize, Erica. I'm here to help. And I've been thinking about this for a while. I know you've been worried about changes in Tyler since the Vs' arrived." Erica raised her head slightly indicating that she was listening.

Jack continued. "With what you've learned from Sid recently about Tyler's DNA, do you think it's possible that what is happening with Tyler is beyond his control? And yours? That there is something beyond fascination pulling him to the Vs?"

Erica slowly raised her head. Jack was almost sorry he'd said anything. The look of despair on her face made the blood drain out of his own face. But he carried on, his words strengthening even himself.

"We will fix this, Erica. We'll find out what is happening. I'm convinced there is an explanation and it is on that mothership."

He smiled gentle encouragement at her teary face. Whether it was his use of the "we" pronoun or just the relief of sharing her fears, Erica's composure was returning.

"Hey, I promised you tea", he whispered as he leaned close. "I better make it in the kitchen. There seems to be a… mess here." She was so close he could clearly see the thin red cut high on her cheek still healing from the car accident. It had been a hell of a few days.

"You okay?" He looked into her bloodshot eyes before he let her go.

"Okay", she confirmed as she sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands.

* * *

><p>When Jack returned a few minutes later with tea, Erica had removed her coat and was picking up scattered books and papers.<p>

"You don't need to do that Erica."

"Yes, I do. Please let me help." He looked at her for a moment and then nodded his agreement. If this made her feel that she was making things right, then he wouldn't stop her. Besides this way he could enjoy her company and he would make sure she was all right before she went home.

"Just put the mug here and I'll keep on working."

Jack returned to scrubbing the wall. She continued picking up and then began to work on the sweeping Father Travis had abandoned in anger when Jack had first returned to see the mess.

"How are you feeling?" Erica asked casually, as she picked up large pieces of broken glass from the coffee stand. When he looked puzzled, she added, "I just wondered if the V-tracking concoction was sitting okay." A little grin played around the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, that," he replied and smiled. "It tasted vile. I don't know how you'd just slip that into someone's drink un-noticed. Unless, of course, Ryan wanted to give me the undisguised version to see how well I handled it." That had brought a full smile to her face.

They worked in companionable silence. Erica went into the kitchen to make another round of tea and they took a break while she told Jack the details about the raid earlier in the evening. When she tried to discuss their involvement with Eli Cohen, he wouldn't get into it.

"Meet me for breakfast tomorrow at seven at _Sublime_ and we'll talk when we're fresh. Unless you want to join me at six for my run?"

"I think I'll take a rain check on the 6am part, thanks," she replied with a tiny shake of her head and a frown as she glanced at the clock.

* * *

><p>It was 2 am and Erica had just filled the bucket with warm water to do some final wiping. Jack's office was almost returned to its simple masculine orderliness. They had filled several boxes of items which could be repaired but even more boxes of items beyond repair and headed for the dumpster.<p>

Erica propped the bucket of water on the edge of the desk and looked around the room with satisfaction. She was obviously feeling much better. Jack approached her and tossed his brush into her bucket without thinking. The brush hit the water surface at a perfect angle and a wave of water launched itself onto Erica, darkening the front of her tank top and slapping her face right up into her hair. Shock riveted them both.

Jack was horrified and after hesitating for a split second, he reached his hands towards her with the plan to hold her shoulders and apologize. Erica's eyes were squeezed shut. He stopped before he touched her. A drop of water released from the tip of her nose and the splat was audible in the bucket. It seemed to echo off the walls of the listening church.

And then that single eye opened with a look that was unmistakable.

He knew she could play. She had started it the day he had been working out and she had critiqued his form with a simple "You're dropping your right". He had been delighted at the teasing look in her eye, her cocked head and he played right back to it by challenging her to do better. Of course she accepted and the boxing gloves were donned. Not only had she paid attention to her brothers, the FBI had taught her a few tricks about strategically placed kicks. The playful side of Erica Evans which had only been hinted at before, were in full bloom that day.

And so he knew that at this moment he should run.

"Uh-oh," he murmured quietly.

"Uh-huh," she replied just as quietly.

His extended hands, originally raised in apology were now waving at her to stay away as he carefully stepped back from her.

Both her eyes were open now and one hand was wiping her face. Her mouth was curving in a predatory smile complimenting the evil look in her eye. A nervous chuckle rumbled in his chest as she picked up the bucket of water.

"Now Erica…..," and he backed away a few more steps. It was too late to apologize.

"Remember, Special Agent Erica Evans, you're here to serve and protect – or something like that" he warned, resurrecting the rapport they'd had on their first 'play date'.

"Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity" she corrected. She took her first step forward.

"Well, one out of three isn't bad," Jack shot at her. Then his eyes opened wide in mock horror at the insult he'd just thrown.

"Come closer, Priest," she softly challenged. Then Jack exploded into motion moving swiftly to the opposite side of his massive desk. Erica followed with slow stalking movements, one hand with fingers curled over the lip of the bucket, the other supporting the base.

"We don't want to make more of a mess, now, do we?" It was a more of a statement than a question.

Erica said nothing, just continued her slow deliberate advances around the desk.

Jack felt like he was ten years old again and the weight of the last weeks lifted off him. All he could focus on was the bucket of water held in her hands. He looked forward to getting wet, he could hardly wait to see how she would react when she triumphed, but he wasn't ready to give in yet. No, he would prolong this and hope she wouldn't give up.

Suddenly Erica burst into a run, moving around the desk and almost losing her footing. Water slopped out of the bucket.

Jack reached for the ladder he'd been using to scrub the spray paint from the wall and scrambled to the top. He sat and looked down at her.

"Come down and fight. Are you a man or a church mouse?" she taunted, looking up at him.

"Oooo, fightin' words!" he rallied, flexing his biceps.

"Siege," she called from the base of the ladder. "I'm patient, Priest."

"No you're not!" he shot back with a huge grin.

He was breathing hard even though he'd barely exerted himself. He hadn't had so much fun in… well, he couldn't remember. Life had become too serious. As his breathing slowed, he observed this woman, his stalker, gazing up at him with big violet eyes that had batted from evil to sweet false innocence in a blink. God had certainly been doing his best work the day he made Erica Evans. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. She'd had him from the first moment he saw her. That their worlds kept colliding when he'd tried so hard to stay away from her, force him to acknowledge that God had plans for them to be together to fight the Visitors. But there was so much more here. Even when they occasionally butted heads, he felt blessed to have her in his life.

Erica couldn't help but agree with Jack. She wasn't a patient person. He would know, he'd been the victim of her outbursts, both authentic and contrived, several times. She winced remembering the first time and still felt guilty for treating him so badly. She had been so scared and her tirade had been completely inappropriate. Insulting. No wonder he had stalked out. She had learned a lot about Jack quickly by making that mistake though. She knew she needed someone just like him. She had been afraid she'd burned her bridges that day as she had watched him walk stiffly down the hall and out of her life.

Looking at him now, she felt lucky – and so grateful – that he had come back to her. He reminded her that she needed to slow down and think more of the consequences of her actions. He reminded her what normal was. He was her anchor when the world was going crazy. And he was there to steady her moral compass when others pressured her. That's why they needed to discuss Cohen.

But moral compass be damned. Right now, she had a score to settle. And he was showing no signs of coming off his perch. Rather, he looked like he was settling in for the duration, elbow propped on knee, chin resting in hand, baby blues studying her face. She considered removing his shoe, but valued her teeth more than retaliation.

"What now, Priest?"

"Truce?" He held up his hands.

Erica shrugged. "Okay. For now."

Jack came down the ladder face first, not taking his eyes off her. When he reached the floor he was still looking down at her. Erica stood her ground. He expected nothing less. The warmth of the water inside the bucket spread through them as they pressed against it from each side. Jack cocked his head to the side to observe her footwear. Usually they looked each other in the eye, but her boots had no heel tonight and she was noticeably shorter.

"Shorty", he scoffed, hands securely on the side of the bucket. Once again he displayed a wide expanse of white teeth, his blue eyes twinkling, his dimples deep. Yes, he was most certainly going to wear the contents of this bucket at some point.

Erica's eyes narrowed, but she could not disguise her own twinkle as he pushed on his side of the bucket. She continued to push back, eyes locked on his.

Suddenly the mood changed and both of them lost their twinkle at the same time. The sharp edge left her smile and was replaced with a simple happy smile. At the same time his eyes lost the tease and his smile turned into the gentle attentive one she had watched him show to those who needed his kindness. It was completely disarming. And his smile was working its magic. She was warmed and soothed.

Jack could not take his eyes off her, relieved to see her happy smile. He worried about her all the time and the heavy burdens she carried. It was frustrating that he could not do more for her. If he could only help with Tyler – that seemed like it should be the easiest of the many challenges to tackle – but he didn't know where to start. Tyler hated him and his outspoken distrust of the Vs and until Erica told Tyler everything, there was little he could do other than be an ear for Erica's worries.

Wow, she was exquisite up close. Breathtaking. After their rocky beginnings, he'd come to learn this woman was compassionate, intelligent and protective. Combine that with a will of steel... He stopped breathing.

Erica Evans made you believe there was nothing she couldn't cope with, so her previous display of vulnerability had taken him by surprise. He thought back to earlier when he sat with her, held her hand, stroked her hair, tried to comfort her. He hadn't quite known which role he needed to take at that moment. Friend or priest? What he had felt were both those things and more - and yet none of those things. It was a simple overwhelming need to connect with her and try to make things better in whatever way was within his power. Her happiness at this second made him want to reach out and stroke her hair again, to tuck the wet tendrils behind her ear.

He felt blessed. And no one could ever take away this moment.

But it was Erica who broke the moment before he reached out. Her eyebrows arched. "Shall we finish?" It was then that he noticed with some confusion that her cheeks had become very pink in the last minute.

Jack stepped back and with a gentlemanly sweep of his arm gestured she was free to walk around the desk. As she went by him, something in the profile of her face alerted him that this was not over.

As she cleared the front edge of the desk Jack was ready as the bucket began to swing up over her shoulder. He slammed into her back and wrapped his arms around her clutching for the bucket. Erica shrieked at the unexpected assault and began to wriggle in his grasp twisting from side to side. But the bucket had been launched far enough to unload a large portion of its cargo, soaking them both.

Erica started to laugh uncontrollably as Jack growled. He wrapped one arm around her and continued struggling to reach the bucket which was much lighter now. But she wasn't giving up without a fight and neither was he. They danced from one side of his office to the other, locked together in a squirming mass.

"What's going on Jack?" Father Travis's authoritative voice stopped them both dead in a pose that resembled statues of wrestling Greek Gods. Jack blew a hank of Erica's hair from his mouth, released her and slipped on the wet floor as he stood upright. He stepped away from Erica.

"Father Travis….! I'm sorry if we disturbed you. Everything is fine." Jack was instantly composed with his usual quiet husky voice. Erica was completely charmed to see his face turning red, although that might be attributed to the warm water dripping off his nose and running down his cheeks from flattened hair.

"This is Erica Evans. She came to help me clean up." Father Travis's judgmental gaze fell on Erica who was doing her best to hide her bare arms behind the bucket clutched high to her chest. She too could feel her face heating up under the scrutiny of the older priest. Normally she was composed and held out her hand when introduced, but tonight she felt like a 8 year old troublemaker and hoped the earth would open up and swallow her. She glanced guiltily at Jack. She was sure the old priest recognized her, unless the congregation had swelled beyond faces he could recall. But he merely nodded to her.

Father Travis's eyes swung back and forth between the drenched combatants, finishing with an extended glare at Jack.

"Good Night", were his only curt words as he turned to walk slowly down the hall.

"Well that was awkward," Jack remarked with a grin when Father Travis was out of earshot. It seemed someone always showed up to ruin their fun.

Erica turned her worried face to him. "I'm so sorry Jack," Erica repeated for the second time tonight. "This isn't going to help your relationship with Father Travis, is it?"

Jack passed his wet sleeve over his dripping face.

"I'm not sure anything could improve my relationship with Father Travis. I don't know what will happen in the next few days. That decree from the Vatican was very explicit. I feel like they sent it straight to me," he said, with a small shake of his head.

"Writing subtle anti-V homilies will not accomplish anything – my nuance would be missed by most congregants who are used to Father Travis's style of plain words. You know I can't stop speaking out, so it looks like I'll be going head to head with the Church very soon. "

Jack shook his head again. "The Church has been my home for a long time," he murmured with regret in his voice. Gone was the happy playfulness of a few minutes earlier.

Now it was Erica's turn to feel helpless. All she could do was to lend an ear. She could not persuade Jack to stop speaking out against the Vs. That was how he fought; honestly and out in the open, unlike herself, who was sneaking around lying to everyone she knew. It was hard to feel honorable standing next to him even when he continually reassured her that she was looking after her family in the best way she could. Erica sighed.

Jack sobered even more when he heard her sigh. The last thing she needed was to worry about him. Real life was pushing hard again.

"Thanks for your help Erica, but you really didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did," she replied, looking sadly at him as they turned and walked to her jacket. Jack started to reach out to take the bucket from her.

"I'll get you a towel to take with you," he said.

He knew it was coming…

"Oh, wait, there's a drop left," Erica observed. Then with lightning speed she tilted the bucket, allowing its remaining contents to cascade over Jack's head.

* * *

><p>AN: I wrote this from memory and when I went back to review the scene in Jack's office, I realized the ladder was just a short step ladder! Please forgive my "artistic" license.

A big THANKS! To my beta for checking a story which is not from one of her fandoms.


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